I'm short. Like, really short. 5'1 kind of short. I might get up to 5'2 on a good hair day (or 6'1 on a bad one). So it's hard for me to reach a lot of things. Overhead bins in planes? I rely on the kindness of strangers. Well, no, really, I just check everything, but sometimes I've had to put my shit in the overhead and I always puppy-eye a nice man to help me out. I have a stool that sits under my desk because my feet don't touch the floor. I have a stool I stand on in the file room because I can't really do much in the top drawers without it.

Grocery stores, however, are an entirely different story. If I'm going to the store for a real trip--the kind where I get a cart instead of a basket--the first thing I do is head for the soda aisle. Once I'm there, I pick up two twelve packs of the nearest soda--the brand doesn't matter--and plunk them into the bottom shelf of the cart where the pushy-part is so they're easily accessible. That way, whenever I get to an aisle that has what I need on a high shelf that I can't reach, I just pull out a twelve pack (or two if it's really high up), step on up, and get what I want.

I thought this was a common thing because it seems like such an obvious solution to me. The first time my mother saw me do it in Ohio, I thought she was going to crap herself. She was afraid I'd step up and all the cans would explode. Thanks Mom, but I don't weigh more than an entire palette of 12 packs of soda and the bottom layer on those palettes do just fine. Mama Pants now does the exact same thing. People in stores kinda giggle sometimes, but mostly, they tell me it's a good idea. When I'm finished, I put the soda back, easy peasy.

I told Joelle about this last night and she laughed at me. So I guess it's not as common as I thought. So I'm just putting out the tip to the rest of my shorties out there.